Ian's Blog

Thursday, 14 March 2019

There
is a moment in Sunday’s lectionary reading when the Pharisees become the good
guys because they warn Jesus of the dangers awaiting him in Jerusalem. It’s all so confusing when the baddies become
the goodies!

All of us can, and do, come to either premature or permanent judgements about
people. Thank God we can be wrong.

Currently the Church of England is celebrating the 25th year since
women were admitted to the priesthood.
Time and again I hear stories of folk who were so against having a woman
vicar – until they had one! Once they
experienced such ministry their preconceptions melted away.

‘Changing our minds’ is rarely a personality fault in my book; instead I
believe it’s generally the mark of an honest maturity.

Prejudice based on blanket statements often poisons us and can infect the
groups we belong to.

Today at ‘Great Sacred Music’, in St Martin in the Fields, Trafalgar Square, we
heard some of the delightful and uplifting music of William Byrd. In Medieval times Byrd sang as a chorister at
St Paul’s and probably studied under Thomas Tallis. Yet once he ‘defected’ and became a Roman
Catholic he was immediately expelled from The Chapel Royal. Ironic that today his music is probably
heard in every Anglican Cathedral around the world. Even the Church gets very confused at times
as to who are the baddies and goodies!!

As Jesus made his way to Jerusalem and the cross we encounter him meeting and
accepting all sorts of people. He
crossed the social divide and willingly, it seems, made time for the ‘wrong’
sort of people. Of course, one’s
definition of wrong is totally subjective and seen through the prism of our own
prejudice.

So this Sunday, after the gospel reading perhaps we could have a different
acclamation and shout: Three cheers for Pharisees!

Friday, 8 March 2019

Every Lent I get this stone out of the drawer and look at
it again. We picked it up from the
Dorset coastline and it immediately reminded us of a freshly baked roll!

After spending forty days in The Wilderness Jesus decided not to turn stones
into croissants.

I wonder if that first temptation wasn’t so much about satisfying hunger as much
as overvaluing the ‘instantaneous’.
Jesus chose not to go down the ‘quick fix’ route. Instead the stones stayed stones and he coped
with his hunger for yet another day.

We live in an age in which so much can be done quickly; we can hardly keep up
with the pace of it all. Bit by bit we
buy in to the idea that news can be obtained at the press of a button, meals
are ready when the microwave pings and big political issues can all be solved
with nothing more than a catchy and popular soundbite. Yet quick news is rarely the whole picture,
quick food is rarely a good and wholesome diet and quick solutions rarely stand
up to the complexities which follow.

I grew up in a wing of the Church that emphasized ‘conversion’. It was so important to the congregation of my
youth whether you had been ‘converted’; could you name the date on which you ‘accepted
Jesus Christ as your Saviour’? Well, I can,
but that’s not the point. Although I
will always feel a deep sense of gratitude for those days I’ve sinced realised
that Jesus wasn’t so much interested in the day I became a Christian but the
life I’ve lived as a Christian. He asked
those fishermen to ‘follow’ him. It wasn’t
a one-off event but a lifetime’s journey.

In that ‘lifetime’ we will all change, and that change can be good and
positive. We may barely notice it’s
going on. Our life experiences will
change us and will change our theology; our view of God, faith and love. It will happen naturally and inevitably. It’s the growth of a person filled with the
Spirit of God and I suspect it will rarely be quick.

Jesus, in The
Wilderness, rejects the quick fix answers and decides to go on a slower route,
one that embraces complexity and struggle, yet one that opens all sorts of
unexpected possibilities. It’s a slow
yet deeper journey.

Friday, 1 March 2019

A Welsh friend of mine emailed me this morning with such a greeting and, in
preparation for March 1st, Radio 4’s Sunday Worship was broadcast
last week from St David’s Cathedral in Wales.

My Welsh friend reminded me of those famous words by David about doing the ‘little
things’ well.

Here at AFC we held a packed service of thanksgiving for a much loved and
highly regarded member of our church yesterday.
He was exemplary in doing the little things well. His tribute finished with this story:

Perhaps it would be appropriate to end
this tribute recalling the time when Dowling, driving through Great Missenden,
offered a lift to a man who was a little worse for wear after a rough night
with a bottle.

Dowling insisted on driving him on to where he needed to be in order that he
might arrive home safely in one piece.
As he went to get out of the car his passenger offered to contribute to
the petrol. Dowling wouldn’t hear of it
and instead told the man to ‘pass it on’.
‘What do you mean?’ said the man.
‘Pass on the kindness to someone you meet one day’, replied Dowling.

Our friend was a Scot, but I think his life summed up the essence of the
Welsh Saint David in doing the little things well.

Thursday, 14 February 2019

Before attending Great Sacred Music at St Martin in the Fields I picnicked in
the balmy February sunshine at Trafalgar Square under the imposing and elegant
statue of George IV.

He’s depicted on horseback in the style of a triumphant Roman emperor. All very impressive but even with a modicum
of history it’s clear to any onlooker that the statue is all too flattering!

George IV was the infamous Prince Regent before he acceded to the throne. He was flamboyant and a lover of excess,
famous for his appetite and womanising! His
statue in Trafalgar Square probably says more about how he’d like to be
remembered than the reality of his life.

I suppose he isn’t alone, but fortunately most of us won’t have the dilemma of
having ourselves cast in bronze for eternity!

Last weekend a much loved and respected member of our congregation at AFC
passed away. His death was sudden and
has rather shocked us all. At evening
service as the news was trickling through, our preacher began her sermon with a
lovely tribute to him, saying that he and his wife would be remembered amongst
us for their constant, generous and kind hospitality.

I suspect today, on Valentine’s Day, we are remembering such people. Folk who have no physical memorial to them,
but whose memory lives on in our minds and makes our hearts glad.

One of my favourite hymns puts it like this:

For all the love that from our earliest days
has gladdened life and guarded all our ways,
we bring you, Lord, our song of grateful praise.
Alleluia.

A good day to sing such a hymn and
remember such people.ps: Blog holiday next week

Friday, 8 February 2019

Over
recent weeks I’ve been revisiting the life of William Carey, the first BMS
missionary who sailed for India just a year after the Baptist Missionary
Society was founded in 1792. That’s
because I gave a talk on him at Women’s Own last month and tomorrow I’ll give a
second at our Men’s Breakfast. I’ve partly chosen him for both occasions
because we have a room named after him at Amersham Free Church and I want to
make it clear it’s in honour of an historic Baptist minister rather than a
recent Archbishop of Canterbury!

Carey was a remarkable man. He came from
the Particular Baptist tradition that believed in pre-destination to such a
degree that many in his circle considered evangelism totally unnecessary, even
sinful. One senior minister is reported
to have said to Carey at a Northamptonshire Baptist Ministers’ Meeting: ‘Sit
down, young men, if God wants to save the heathen he’ll do it without your
help!’. Well, it might have been
intended as a ‘put down’ but it had completely the opposite outcome! Carey stepped up to the mark and immediately
offered to go to India as the BMS’s first missionary in 1793.

He served there a full seven years before baptising his first convert. He translated the Bible into local dialects
only to have the printing shed burn down one night; so, he started all over
again. His son and wife died prematurely
because of the climate. He worked hard at understanding local vegetation and
working for increased crop yield, helping to form the Indian Horticultural
Society En route. He participated in
setting up the first Theological College in India at Serampore, with a charter
to award degrees from the King of Denmark.
And he campaigned for the abolition of ‘Sati’ – the tradition of burning
the widow on her husband’s funeral pyre.

Carey was such an all-rounder. For him mission was about body, mind and
soul. In fact, the BMS have pretty much
taken that as their template ever since.
He was a trail blazer – and although I guess it’s not his greatest
honour, he is more than worthy to have a room named after him at AFC!

Friday, 1 February 2019

Although
some folks live a settled life in the same location for years ministers can,
potentially at least, live quite mobile lives.
Since my ordination in 1987 we’ve had the privilege of serving in five
churches in different parts of the UK; each has been a ‘chapter’ in its own
right.

Last Sunday I revisited one of these churches, Walsworth Road Baptist in
Hitchin, as a guest preacher at the start of their 150th anniversary
year. It was super to be back and learn of all the exciting and imaginative
projects the congregation are involved in.

I always enjoy meeting up with college friends occasionally and that’s usually
on a one to one basis in London. Sunday
was different. I found myself in a
building I knew intimately and after the service, over coffee, a queue started
to form around me of people who had known me when I was the church’s
minister. I served at Hitchin between
1992 to 1999 and our children were born there. Last weekend every handshake seemed
like a ‘time machine’ back to the 1990’s.
Each conversation recalling some event or person from the past and in
that process making it ‘come alive’ again.

I am only too aware that some issues from our past are difficult to deal with and
that ‘living’ in bygone days is not the best way to cope with the
present. However, Sunday made me realise
again that the past is very ‘real’ and has formed us into the people we are. Fortunately for us our trip down ‘memory lane’
to Hitchin last Sunday reminded us of some very happy and positive days.

We wish our old church God’s richest blessing during this very special
anniversary year.

Friday, 25 January 2019

Tuesday
saw Amersham and district grind to a miserable halt because it was
snowing. Folks leaving Tea at Three and
the Property and Finance Committee (we do have fun on Tuesdays!!) endured road
journeys home lasting between 3 to 4 hours; trips that normally take 20 to 25
mins. It was a difficult rush/slow hour
full of angst and frustration.

I left church on Tuesday evening with just a walk back home to the Manse and to
be truthful the ‘whiteout’ looked quite beautiful with one little schoolgirl in
front of me singing ‘Once in Royal David’s City’ as she skipped home; it felt
like the return of Christmas.

Yet for those drivers anxious to arrive home without accident or injury there
was no sense of celebration, just struggle.

Last week our Life and Faith homegroup looked at Psalm 19 which begins with
those wonderful words: The heaven are telling the glory of God. Well yes, but on Tuesday as the snow fell
from those heavens I guess very few drivers looked heavenward and sang
alleluia.

Of course, many of the Psalms use the poetry of praise as they ponder the
wonder of creation. Somehow the majesty
and grandeur of creation, along with the rhythm of the seasons, drew these
temple songwriters to worship and thanksgiving.
Even today many people would still say they feel ‘nearer to God in a
garden than anywhere else on earth’.

Yet there is another, more dangerous and demanding side to the natural world
which is ‘red in tooth and claw’. Those ‘heavens’
described in Psalm 19 also bring hurricanes or scorching heat; on Tuesday it
was disruptive snow.

I don’t think the Old Testament writers were unaware of this seeming
contradiction. Just think of the story
of Joseph overseeing the Egyptian famine in the book of Genesis. Seven years of plenty were followed by seven
lean years. The point of the story is
that the management of Joseph, his foresight and planning, saved the day. He worked with nature in both the good times
and bad.

Psalm 19, and other ‘creation songs’ are poetry. They rejoice in the earth’s great potential
and made a link between that sustaining provision and the faithfulness of
God. But the Bible doesn’t blandly look
out on nature in a sentimental way. The writers of both Testaments knew the
terror of tempest, storm and wind alongside the life-threatening horror of the
noontide heat in The Wilderness.

The natural world can be frightening as well as inspiring. It draws us to wonder even as it demands from
us a certain respect and deep understanding.
We are both ‘stewards’ and ‘worshippers’, working with creation even as
we give thanks for it.